


that ol' (pattern) magic

by fangirl_squee



Category: Friends at the Table (Podcast)
Genre: Bodyswap, M/M, Size Difference, Trans Character
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-02-11
Updated: 2019-02-11
Packaged: 2019-10-26 06:14:21
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,370
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/17740400
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/fangirl_squee/pseuds/fangirl_squee
Summary: Lem’s pattern magic goes awry, switching Lem and Fero’s bodies. There is a very specific pattern to reverse the effects.





	that ol' (pattern) magic

**Author's Note:**

> I will Not Rest until all tropes have been written for fatt!! Thanks to Dora and Alix who have both talked about this on twitter, and to Maddie, for betaing.

 

The first thing Lem notices, once he manages to open his eyes and slowly sit up, is that the room seems much bigger than it did before. He feels panic rise in his throat - the pattern went wrong again, what if the dormitory has grown in size, what if it’s crushed other buildings, what if he’s enlarged the entire University-

 

And then he sees himself, sitting up and blinking at him, and his mind goes completely blank. The version of himself blinks down at him, looking as confused as Lem feels.

 

“Uh,” says the body opposite to him in Fero’s voice, “What the fuck?”

 

“Fero?”

 

“ _ Lem _ ? Why are you me?” Fero looks down, looks back up, repeats the motion a few more times. “Lem, why am I  _ you _ ?”

 

“I don’t know!” says Lem, trying for calm and absolutely not making it there, “it was supposed to fix the tower windows!”

 

Fero waves his arm ( _ Lem’s _ arm) at the still broken window. “Well it didn’t do  _ that _ !”

 

“Yes, I can see that!” He tries to stand up, wobbling on strangely short legs.

 

Fero reaches out, steadying him. Lem flinches. He hadn’t realised his hands were so large on Fero’s body, the feeling of his own broad palm encompassing almost his entire side is alien.

 

“Sorry,” says Fero.

 

He doesn’t move his hands, which Lem is grateful for - his knees feel like they’re going to buckle at any moment.

 

“It’s fine,” says Lem.

 

“So,” says Fero, “do you have to like, hit us that hard to swap us back, or what?”

 

Lem blinks up at him, another alien feeling. “Swap us back?”

 

Fero wrinkles his nose, and it’s strange to see such a  _ Fero _ expression on his own features. “Yeah,  _ swap us back _ . I get why you want to stay me, I’m great, but I’d kind of like to be me too.”

 

“I do  _ not _ want to stay you,” says Lem.

 

“Well  _ I _ don’t want to stay  _ you _ !”

 

Lem shushes him. The  _ last _ thing he wants is for people to come investigating.

 

“Look, I’ll just- I’ll-”

 

“Oh my god,” says Fero, panic rising in his voice “you don’t know how to reverse this, do you?”

 

“I do! Theoretically!” says Lem.

 

Fero groans, letting go of Lem’s side to flop back down on the floor.

 

“No, listen, Fero, it’s fine, it’s completely- It’s fine,” says Lem, “there’s a whole section on pattern magic downstairs, one of those books definitely has a way of, uh, of fixing this.”

 

“Then what are we waiting for!”

 

Fero stands, or tries to, stumbling and clumsily supporting himself on the wall. He blinks down at Lem.

 

“You’re  _ so tall _ . This is ridiculous.”

 

“I am not that tall,” says Lem. “You’re just short!”

 

“Am not,” says Fero.

 

“I’m you at the moment,” says Lem, “I can say with certainty that you are.”

 

Fero huffs a breath. “Whatever, let’s just get this fixed. This is the worst.”

 

On that, Lem can agree.

 

They creep downstairs. It’s slow-going - Lem feels like there are  _ twice _ as many stairs as normal, and Fero keeps tripping over his feet, accidentally taking two steps at a time. He glares at Lem with each stumbled step.

 

Mercifully, they don’t run into anyone else, slipping into the basement library of the dormitory tower.

 

“The pattern magic section is this way.” Lem takes two steps and then stops. “Or. Uh.”

 

“You said you knew where it was!” hisses Fero.

 

“Well everything looks different from down here!”

 

“Oh for the love of- here-”

 

Fero picks him up. It’s something Lem’s done for him hundred of times - a boost or a better vantage point or Fero’s legs are tired - but it’s different to be on the receiving end of it. There’s a swooping feeling in his stomach as Fero lifts him, easily settling him on his now-broad shoulders.

 

“Better?”

 

“I, uh, yes?” says Lem. “Oh, right, there it is, over there.”

 

Fero keeps him on his shoulder as they approach the section, his hand warming Lem’s side and stopping him from falling off. Fero’s hand feels rather nice actually, now that he’s past the initial shock of it, reassuring in a way.

 

“So what are we looking for exactly?” says Fero.

 

“It’s… it should be in here,” says Lem, “I passed it the other day, it was, oh- papers, that’s right, it’s not a  _ book _ it’s a collection of papers, someone’s thesis, I think.”

 

“Right,” says Fero. He pauses. “Should I, uh…”

 

“Oh! Uh. If you could?” says Lem, feeling his cheeks flush. “It, uh, was at head height. Was at my head height, I mean.”

 

Fero nods, walking them slowly along the shelves. It’s in the fifth row on the second shelf down:  _ The Theoretical Future of Patterns: An Examination of the Pattern as it it Connects to the Self. _

 

Fero wrinkles his nose, setting Lem down. “So now what?”

 

Lem is already carefully leafing through the loose pages. “I need some time. It’s definitely in here, somewhere, I just have to…”

 

Fero huffs a breath, sinking down to sit on the ground, legs spread out annoyingly into Lem’s space. He always does this, but usually his legs aren’t long enough to poke Lem in the side. Lem scowls at him, and Fero grins back. That, at least, feels normal, even if their expressions are on the opposite faces.

 

It doesn’t take Lem long to find it, although once he reads through the pattern he almost wishes he hadn’t.

 

“I…” Lem clears his throat. “I’m not sure if this pattern will be suitable after all.”

 

Fero looks up from where he’s been pulling books out of the shelves at random and stacking them into towers. “What? Why?”

 

Lem doesn’t look at him, glad for the dim lighting of the basement. “It, uh. It requires something very specific,  I think, and I’m just not sure…”

 

Fero sits down next to him, face serious. “Look, I know this place doesn’t have the supplies that the Archives had, but, hey, we’re pretty resourceful, we can definitely get whatever it is we need.” When Lem still doesn’t say anything, Fero bumps their shoulders together. “Come on, what does this dumb pattern need?”

 

Lem keeps his eyes fixed firmly on the page. “It’s uh, we- oh hell, I’ll just read it.  _ A small room of old stone. Two travelling beds. The bodies of the afflicted beings, stripped and held close. The firm exchange of breath. Two _ -” Lem clears his throat, takes a moment. “ _ Two peaks reached together within the hour. _ ”

 

They both sit, the silence stretching for what feels like an eternity.

 

“So we…” says Fero, trailing off.

 

“Yes,” says Lem. His voice comes out in a whisper.

 

“And there’s not any other…?”

 

Lem shakes his head.

 

Fero lets out a long breath. His hands fidget in his lap. Lem looks at Fero’s hands ( _ his _ hands) and then to the papers, and then away, to the corner of the room.

 

“So, okay,” says Fero, “So. We- okay.”

 

“I’ll try to find something else,” says Lem.

 

“How long is  _ that _ gonna take?”

 

Lem looks up at the tall library stacks. He hasn’t read through all of them, but he’s been down here enough to know that this is probably the only text down here that even  _ mentions _ something like their current predicament. The resources at the New Archives probably would have had more but- well. It would take too long to get to them, anyway, even if they somehow had managed to avoid being washed away.

 

Fero lets out another breath, this one more unsteady than the last. “Okay, I mean, we could… you know. We  _ could _ .”

 

Lem looks up at him in surprise. “I-  _ well _ . I mean. Of course we could. I just didn’t know if you...”

 

“It would be faster,” says Fero. His eyes are fixed on the shelf above Lem’s head. “We could get this fixed before anyone even knows.”

 

Lem nods, slowly. “Yes, I- I suppose it would be  _ that _ bad. I mean, we’ve…”

 

He trails off, feeling his blush deepen.

 

“Yeah,” says Fero.

 

They meet each other’s eyes before both quickly looking away. It’s not something they’ve ever really spoken about, the cold winters in the Archives and their thin excuses about keeping warm - excuses that were invalidated, after, by sweltering summer nights in the Archives, although by that time they’d discarded the need for excuses for Fero to stay the night (or, on a few occasions, for Fero to drag him somewhere secluded). They don’t really speak about the travel away from the Archives either, nights where Lem would tremble at every small forest noise until Fero could distract him enough.

 

Lem wets his lips, noting absently that they’re chapped - Fero’s lips always are. He looks back down at the pattern instructions.

 

“Well,” says Lem, letting out a huff of breath, “Well, we, uh, already have a room of old stone with the dorm room upstairs, and our bedrolls would work as travelling beds, so we could… uh… unless you...”

 

Fero swallows. It’s odd to see the dark blush on his cheeks from this angle.

 

“Yeah,” says Fero, “I mean, no, it’s fine, we can… I mean, it’s not like either of us can really do anything until we get this sorted, right?”

 

“Right,” says Lem.

 

Neither of them move.

 

“Right,” says Lem again, “Okay.”

 

Fero makes a frustrated noise, pushing himself off the floor. “Come on. If we take too long someone’s going to come find us for something.”

 

Lem clutches the papers tight to his chest as they walk upstairs. It feels like a long way, his face feeling hotter with every step. He thinks he hears someone walking up behind them, and he picks up his pace, hurrying back to his room. As soon as Fero is in behind him he shuts the door, locking it.

 

Fero pulls the room’s lone chair over, pushing it under the curved handle.

 

“Just in case,” says Fero.

 

Lem nods. He looks down at the papers again, as though they’ll give him new instruction. The words are the same as they ever were. He swallows hard, setting the papers down on the desk, shuffling them to lay straight.

 

“Lem, if you…” Fero starts to say.

 

“Listen, Fero, we-” says Lem at the same time.

 

Lem looks up at him, and Fero huffs a laugh. He’s fidgeting with the pockets on his - on Lem’s - vest. 

 

“I mean, I’m okay with it,” says Lem, “but I know we... but not we’re not… so don’t feel like you have to, you know, we’re pretty good at- well, we’re okay at this, so we could probably find a different way to do this, maybe, if you-”

 

“It’s fine,” says Fero, “I just wanted to make sure  _ you _ …”

 

“No, I am,” says Lem.

 

“Right,” says Fero, “okay, so.”

 

“So,” says Lem.

 

The room is so silent Lem can hear the distant calls from the market below the tower.

 

He swallows. “So, uh. We need our bedrolls.”

 

“Right,” says Fero,  “I’ll do that.”

 

They lay the bedrolls out of the floor next to one another. There’s another pause. Lem can feel Fero’s eyes on him.

 

“Then we uh.” Lem takes a deep breath, reaching for the papers as though the words aren’t seared into his mind. “Then we need to be stripped and held close.”

 

He gets his - Fero’s - shirt off before Fero’s grunt of annoyance distracts him. He’s struggling with the straps unlong his undershirt, having apparently started on the belts at his waist before giving up.

 

Lem huffs a laugh. “Here.”

 

Fero sighs. “I never could figure out these things.”

 

“It’s easy,” says Lem, “you just- and then-  _ there _ .”

 

The straps untwist themselves under Lem’s hands and he moves to the belts, half-way through before his mind catches up to him.

 

“I- sorry! Sorry.”

 

Fero catches his wrist as he begins to pull back. Fero’s broad hand wraps easily around his wrist, and Lem feels his pulse jump.

 

“Hey,” says Fero softly, “it’s okay.”

 

Slowly, tentatively, Lem puts his hands back on the belts at Fero’s waist. He can feel Fero inhale sharply, muscles twitching as Lem unfastens the belts. He doesn’t step back as Fero lets his pants slide down his legs.

 

Lem sucks his lower lip. He’d never really considered how close Fero’s head height was to… At any rate, he’s familiar enough with his own state of being to recognise that Fero is already half hard, a sight that sends a jolt of heat through him.

 

Fero gestures at him. “Do you, uh…”

 

“No, I- it’s fine,” says Lem.

 

Fero’s clothing is secured by much more simple means. Lem hesitates for a moment before stripping entirely, forcing himself to look up at Fero’s face. Fero is already looking down at him, the deep green blush spreading down his chest. Lem’s eyes follow it, his hands curling and uncurling by his sides.

 

“So the next part is…?”

 

“Held close,” says Lem, “Which might be easier if we lie down? Or, uh- because-”

 

Fero huffs a laugh, his shoulders losing some of their tension. “No, yeah. Because your body’s stupidly tall.”

 

“It is not,” says Lem, “It’s exactly right. You’ll just have to get used to accommodating your tiny body.”

 

“My body is the right height,” says Fero, “It’s not my fault everyone else decided to be so tall.”

 

Lem tries not to focus too much on Fero as his body stretches across their bedrolls. He awkwardly positions himself in Fero’s arms, feeling hyper-aware of every small shift of Fero’s skin over his. It’s not different to how it was, on that long-ago journey. It’s absolutely the most different, seeing it from the other side of things. Instead of holding Fero tight to him, letting Fero push him down and pull him away from his worried thoughts, he feels dwarfed by Fero’s arms around him.

 

“Lem?”

 

Lem snaps away from the memory. “Sorry, I was just… thinking, about how strange this all is.”

 

Fero snorts. “Yeah.”

 

“No, I mean, how strange it is compared to… before.”

 

Fero stills. “Oh.” He pauses. “Do you think about… that… normally?”

 

“No,” says Lem, “Not really. Sometimes.”

 

“Yeah,” says Fero, “me too.”

 

Lem tilts his head back to look up at him. Fero’s already looking down at him, their faces close together.

 

“Now what?” says Fero softly.

 

“Firm exchange of breath,” says Lem, and pushes himself up further to kiss him.

 

Fero is immediately in motion, shifting underneath Lem to pull himself on top of Lem, his hands hot on Lem’s skin. One of his thighs shifts between Lem’s legs and Lem gasps at the sharp friction of it, his hips jolting upwards.

 

Lem nudges his side and Fero rolls them so Lem is on top of him, his hands tight on Lem’s sides. They feel even bigger on his bare skin, as though they could wrap around Fero’s whole body.

 

“ _ Oh _ ,” says Lem.

 

Fero pulls back, looking at him questioningly. Lem feels himself blush, head buzzing with arousal.

 

“Your- my hands,” says Lem, “I- they’re-”

 

Fero squeezes his sides, just a little, and Lem shudders. Fero grins at him. He looks entirely too pleased with himself, so Lem pushes himself up Fero’s chest to kiss him again, pulling at his hair to angle him the way he wants him. Fero whimpers, his hips arching up under Lem.

 

“What’s… what’s the next part?” says Fero, panting as they break apart.

 

Lem’s hands curl in Fero’s hair again, twining the braid around his fingers. Fero shudders, tilting up towards Lem. He kisses him again, cradling the back of Lem’s head, his other hand still on Lem’s waist, keeping him pressed tight against his thigh.

 

“Two peaks,” breathes Lem in between kisses.

 

“Easy,” says Fero, and flips them back around so that Lem is underneath him again.

 

Lem makes a little  _ oof _ noise as his back hits the bedroll. “What do you-  _ oh- _ ”

 

Fero’s fingers trail over Lem’s slick entrance, dipping in teasingly before running lightly along his opening. Lem whimpers, his nails digging into Fero’s shoulder.

 

“We only- only have an hour,” says Lem, voice shaking as he tries to keep it level, “We don’t-”

 

He breaks off into a moan as Fero sinks two fingers into him, feeling the achingly-slow stretch of them inside him. Fero kisses him to muffle the sound as his hand moves, still slowly. Lem’s hips arch upwards, his toes curling in the fabric of the bedroll beneath him, encouraging Fero deeper.

 

Fero ducks his head, kissing along his jaw to his ear. “I know just how you feel. All those nights in the Archives. All those nights on the road. I didn’t realise how fragile I looked like this. How  _ small _ .”

 

Lem can feel his whole body trembling, a wire pulled taunt. “I- I…  _ Fero _ , I-”

 

Fero hums against Lem’s neck, sucking a bruise there before continuing. “Here.”

 

Fero adds another finger, the angle of his hand changing, brushing against Lem’s clit. Lem shudders without stopping, heat pulsing through his body, driving the air from his body. 

 

“Wait,” says Lem, “Wait, you- it has to be the same-  _ oh, gods _ \- Fero!” He slaps at Fero’s shoulder and Fero stills. “It has to be at the same time or it won’t work!”

 

Fero gives him a sheepish look, relaxing his hold on Lem and gasping as Lem takes him in hand. The face it’s on might be different, but Lem remembers the expression quite well, teasing his fingers along Fero’s length.

 

Fero buries his face in the top of Lem’s head, his breath hot on Lem’s scalp. “ _ Gods _ .”

 

Lem wriggles almost experimentally, bringing their hips closer together, letting out a soft moan at the way Fero feels against him. Fero grinds their hips together, slipping his thigh back between Lem’s legs. Lem clutches at his shoulders, his leg curling around Fero’s side and digging his heel into Fero’s back for more leverage. Fero groans, his arms shaking where they bracket Lem’s head, his body filling Lem’s vision.

 

“I’m… I-” Fero pants.

 

“The same time,” Lem manages to say, “Almost-”

 

Fero slides a hand in between them and Lem clutches at it, keeping it pressed against him, holding himself off from the edge. He clumsily reaches out for Fero, wrapping a hand around him, feeling the rocking fo Fero’s hips lose their rhythm. 

 

“Lem-” gasps Fero, “Lem, I can’t, I need to- I- Lem,  _ please _ .”

 

In answer, Lem tilts his face up, finding Fero’s lips. They’re both too far gone to kiss properly, their mouths meeting with a sloppy urgency. He can feel himself unravelling, tipping over.

 

“ _ Fero _ ,” says Lem.

 

He can feel Fero’s release on his stomach as his tips over the edge, the shuddering rush of it melting into the sensation of falling, falling, falling…

 

Slowly, he opens his eyes. The room around him looks the same as ever, the windows steamed up a little, making the night outside foggy. He can hear Fero’s ragged breathing over his own.

 

“Did it work?” says Fero.

 

Lem takes a breath in, then looks down. He lets out the breath, relief flooding him. “Yes.”

 

He looks over at Fero, who’s peeking out at him from behind his fingers. Lem laughs.

 

“It worked! I always knew it would, of course-  _ oof _ !”

 

Fero launches at him, wrapping his small arms around Lem’s chest.

 

“Well!” says Lem.

 

He runs a hand up and down Fero’s back. Fero hums, pressing a kiss to Lem’s chest. They both freeze.

 

“Uh,” says Fero.

 

“It’s fine,” says Lem, “it shouldn’t reverse anything if we, uh…”

 

Fero looks up at him. “If we what?”

 

“If we… did… anything,” says Lem slowly.

 

Fero’s eyes narrow. “Did you  _ want _ to… do anything?”

 

Lem shifts underneath him, feeling his face flush. “Well, that’s- I- you know, Fero, it’s- well- I...”

 

“Yeah,” says Fero. He tilts his head to the side. “Me too, sometimes.”

 

“Oh,” says Lem softly.

 

“Yeah,” says Fero, reaching up towards Lem, “ _ Oh _ .”

 

He draws Lem back down, kissing without the urgency they’d had before, the heat rising in Lem slowly.

 

Lem pulls back. “Wait! Wait. We should, um. We should move to the bed. Just in case.”

 

Fero laughs. “Right. Just in case.”

**Author's Note:**

> come say hi: mariusperkins on most places


End file.
